America Breaks Down!
by At Night We Rise
Summary: America is under a lot of stress an when he is rejected help from England; he breaks. Now it's up to England to stop Alfred from hurting himself and possibly the people around him. NO YAOI, sorry.
1. Pushed

"'Cause I'm the hero!" America shouted at the end of the table, his fist in the air, and the same obnoxiously wide happy grin on his face like usual.

"Oh, shut up America," England sighed from across the table rolling his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration at the annoyingly loud American.

"Ohonhonhon." France laughed in his seat beside England, adding to the Brits headache.

Germany stood up while gathering his stuff, "That is the end of the meeting."

"Ve~ Germany, let's go get some pasta!" Italy cheered, latching on to the German's arm; it's become such a common thing that no one thought twice, or gave a sparing glance, of it.

Germany blushed at the little Italian and looked away, nodding a yes to the young boy. England got up as well and many Nations headed out the door. Canada on the other hand walked to where Russia was still sitting, waiting for everyone to leave before he too, got up and went home. They watched as all the drama unfolded.

America on the other hand ran up to England, slinging an arm around his shoulders, "Come on dude, let's go get a burger." The American seemed so happy that it almost seemed forced. That annoying smile and voice just seemed agonizing to pay attention to. His smile was far too wide to seem natural his laughter was so loud that it made the people around his cringe.

England wasn't as happy as America though, he was quite the opposite actually; he picked America's arm up with his fingers as if it was something disgusting and let it fall by the American's side.

"No, I'm afraid I have other plans." England easily rejected the poor American.

America just wouldn't take no for an answer however; he kept insisting that England go with him to McDonald's, and England kept saying no as politely as he could. They were now in the parking lot by England's black car, and England was standing by the bumper when he whirled on the happy American.

"No, America, I do not want to eat a burger with you, go home!" England yelled furiously, his face stricken with frustration.

Here's the thing about happy people; they usually break worse than others. For a lot of people, being overly happy is just something they have done since they were little and have come so accustomed to being 'happy' that they don't know when they are faking it and when it's real so they just assume it's always genuine happiness.

For better explanation of the situation; America doesn't care about insults or anything; most Americans don't. This can cause people to get upset that they can't bother him. Right now tho, America is reaching out to England for help. Of course he would never actually ask for help; he has to much pride for that, so instead he ask him to go eat with him. America is under a lot of stress during this time and England doesn't know that Alfred is just reaching out for some free, relaxation time, so he rejects helping him.

You see, at this point America just stood with his mouth gaped open, wanting to speak but not having any words to say. The young blonde was in utter shock that the Englishmen was _yelling_ at him- usually he had more restraint. You would think that would have been enough and the Englishmen would have driven off by now but no, he kept going.

"You are not the amazing hero you think you are America! You can't save the world no matter how much you want to and to be honest we don't want you involved in our affairs. I wish you were more like your sweet brother Canada and just keep quiet! I wish you would shut your mouth for five seconds and listen to what's going on and stop being so arrogant, seriously the world doesn't revolve around you. Everything you say is rubbish, take some lessons from Matthew and then maybe people would like you!" England was fuming by this time and panting from the long statement with little breath.

The stress is so great on America's shoulders right now that these small words, that on any other day wouldn't hurt him- have a huge impact on his unstable emotions at the moment. Instead of taking a deep breathe Alfred's iron hard skin -that keeps him immune to insults- cracks and begins to crumple around him. Leaving him exposed to the pain of the world and the words of others..

England was so mad that he didn't notice America backing away slowly and he didn't notice the tears that were threatening to spill from his aqua blue eyes. America hears this all the time but for some reason today it hurts more then usual, he knew everyone thought this and he wouldn't care any other day, but day when he needs the help the most this just seems to make the pain all the much more worse.. He especially didn't think England, his father figure from when he was young and one of his friends now would ever be the one to yell it out and throw it in his face. He was beyond hurt; he was devastated at the words spoken to him.

England turned around, still not paying any attention to the boy; he turned on his heels and stormed into his black 1967 Mustang fastback. Throwing it into gear he drove away from the shocked blonde, not looking back. America turned around and ran, the tears that spilled out of his eyes, flying behind him. The wind against his face made the tears sting his checks. He ran all the way to his electric blue Pontiac firebird tans am , he jumped in and drove out of the parking lot as fast as his amazing car would allow him to.

This whole time Canada was watching from the window up stairs, his hands pressed to the delicate glass, he saw the whole scene unfold right before his innocent eyes. He knew everything that was said since he could read lips. His hand came up to his mouth as the other held Kumajiro in his arms. Said bear tilted his head to the side while looking up at his friend. Knowing, sensing that his beloved master was worried and hurt for the hamburger man that was outside.

"Sad," That was all that had to be said- and the bear was right, America was sad and so was Canada.

Canada felt horrible for his brother, having grown up with him; Matthew knows exactly how he would react to this. Considering how bad his economy is doing, the pressure from his boss and the anxiety of his people, and then you add the depression rates that are going up in America; he was bound to go overboard. Canada knew this wouldn't end well, everything was being channeled through Alfred, and it was far too much for the boy to handle.

"I can't believe England said that to poor America." The blonde Canadian quietly spoke to himself, still shocked about what happened and feeling his chest swell up in sympathy for his brother.

"He simply spoke what most of us think." Russia said from over Canada's shoulder, also watching the blonde in front of him and the one that is now on the road.

Russia was smiling his childish smile when Matthew looked over at him. Canada hadn't noticed him and gasped a little, turning around to look back at him.

Maybe the little Canadian was reading too much into the whole situation. Perhaps he was just being too worrisome of his brother; Matthew knew his overly happy, obnoxious brother was going to be ok- just like always; he would bounce back after sulking for a while in his "emo corner" as Alfred would put it. Wouldn't he?

"If you all think that, then why don't any of you tell him?" Canada asked the large scary Russian who only tilted his head slightly smiling.

"Because most of us enjoy it, though we won't admit it, we all rely on America because without him we would fall faster than anyone could snap their fingers. Even though the boy is annoying he amuses most of us." The Russian answered the Canadian's question. "England knows that better than any of us." The Russian was in thought by this point thinking about …whatever it was Russia thinks about. Honestly everyone should be afraid of his thoughts, there're probably just as scary as he was

"So then why would he say it?" Canada looked to the larger man with curiosity as they both turned around to walk out of the beautifully decorated room that they had their meeting in.

"He was mad," Russia smiled, taking hold of Canada's hand loosely as they walked out of the large golden doors.

The Canadian blushed lightly at the contact, still not use to affection Russia gave him so openly. It took poor little Matthew forever to get the white haired man to the point that he would openly admit he was in a relationship with the younger of the two. It shouldn't shock him that Russia would now openly show his affection.

"Are we going to your place?" The Canadian asked yet another question.

Amazingly this didn't bother Ivan; he just smiled down at his lover, staring into his bright eyes that show so much curiosity and knowledge at the same time. Russia is amazed every day at how easily everyone ignores this beautiful boy. Granted, he used to as well- he never noticed the poor Canadian until he looked into those eyes that were so gem like, he can never look away and can find him so easily in any crowd. Ivan finds himself craving those majestic eyes.

"Da," Was the simple answer the Russian gave his adorable Canadian boyfriend.

"Food," Kumajiro added as the group laughed and went to Russia's mansion of a house.

Now back to our typical blonde American; he has been driving for a few minutes wallowing in his sadness which coincidently turned into hours without him noticing. Looking at the clock on the radio (that was blasting out rock music), the American let out a long sigh, feeling numb inside. He slowed his pace and drove home.

The car went down the drive way and pulled to a stop in front of the two story brick house. America did everything as if on auto-pilot, just going through the motions, he climbed out of the car and walked numbly to the house. Walking to the door itself felt like an eternity, once inside the house, America sat on the plush couch, putting his head in his hands.

"How could he even say such a thing?" The broken boy mumbled to himself. He just couldn't understand it.

America couldn't get over what England had said to him. Not for the first time, America felt utterly alone, he felt as if everyone had abandoned him and would never come back. The saddest part is that he didn't blame them either, they were probably better off without him.

These are the thoughts that broke America's hold on his emotions, he cried out alone, wishing something would stop him from feeling this way. The Great America let his icy tears slide from his eyes like a river, with his hands trying to act as a dam to block them, rubbing excessively at the bottom of his eyes as if that would stop them from falling . He finally gave up and knew he was broken; his hands fell down as he stayed hunched over, watching his tears splash against the hardwood floors.

The crying finally stopped, but only because there was no more water in his body to create the tears he so desperately wanted to let out. The salty tears were the only thing helping him feel better, even they left him with nothing but puffy eyes and trails down his cheeks to prove they were there.

He just sat there for ten minutes replaying what was said to him; over and over. It ran through his head like a song set on repeat; a horrible song that makes you feel the truth but also makes you made at the fact as well; so much that you just want to stop it from playing but can't figure out how.

Then an idea struck him; _if everyone is better off without me then why am I still here?_ America's heart was broken, and the numbness made him feel as if his spirit was broken as well. America wanted to die, and that was what he felt he needed to do to make the people he loved happy.

This is what will make them happy. This is the last act as a hero that he will do, to save all of their sanity from his absurdity.

So America walked to the kitchen, grabbed a large knife, a pen, and some paper. America would write an apology letter to all of the other countries, telling them he was extremely sorry and that he wishes them well.

He would do it- he will die today.

with England

England had been driving without thinking, just letting the car steer itself, he needed to go somewhere but wasn't sure where anymore. All the Englishmen could think about was how he had snapped at America. He was just so stressed, his economy was crap, his leaders were jerks, and France was over bearing, so he took it all out on poor America. The lad didn't deserve it in any form of fashion, he just happened to be in the way when the fuse met its end. That fuse was England's anger, and he couldn't stop from exploding; he should have done more to keep himself calm.

England knew more than anybody that America was really sensitive. He would never let anybody know, but when everyone ignored him or laughed at him, America would always feel bad, as if everyone was picking on him. It didn't matter how much that boy smiled, he worried about everything all the other countries worried about too. He might say stupid things sometimes, but because of those stupid things he says while he goofs off, no one took him seriously during those rare times that he _**was **_serious.

Everyone has a way to deal with stress; each country has a special way that helps them to deal with things. France gets really perverted, Russia will act childish, England will act like a jerk, Canada will become more invisible than normal, and poor America acts like a complete idiot when he is stressed. Now, it's a different kind of idiotism then him just goofing off- ,it's hard to explain but it is different. He uses himself as comic relief for the others; he truly believed he could save them all.

England knew that he needed to go apologize to the lad before he did something stupid. With his mind made up, the Englishman looked around, allowing himself to become aware of his surroundings. He noticed he was already pulling into America's yard- at least his mind already knew where to go before he actually decided on it.

Jumping out of his car that seemed to blend into the night, England walked up to the door, knocking lightly. Hearing nothing, the Englishmen deicide to knock again, only a little harder. Yet again he got no reply; this confused the green eyed man because usually America would answer the door after the first knock with so much enthusiasm that he knocked the Briton over. Concern began to grip at England's heart, his hands started to sweat as he lightly pushed the door open, walking inside when he found the door was unlocked.

"America?" England called out to the dark house, his voice echoing against the blue painted walls.

Nothing came as the young man walked past the front hall and when he peeked around the corner he gasped at the sight he saw. England's stomach felt as if it was in his throat, as he let out a strangled cry.

"America!" England ran to the side of the young boy he had taken care off as a small child.

Blood was dripping down the American's wrist from deep gashes that had been carved into his skin. When England walked in, the boy was making the final blow by positioning the blade in his hand at the bottom of his wrist so he could drag it along up to his elbow. The first few gashes, England assumed, were just there to cause him pain, the punishment he felt he needed.

England ran over to the blonde boy, jerking the blade out of his shaking hand, and throwing the bloody knife to the ground across the room so he couldn't reach it. America looked up at the Englishmen at first with shock, and then tears began to fall down his face as he realized who was before him. England could feel the guilt gripping at his soul, knowing he was the one to push the poor boy to this drastic of a thing.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, lad?" England had now begun to cry along with the boy, his tears dripped down his cheek; hitting the tiled floor beneath the both of them.

"I…I wanted to…. I just thought." America was stumbling over his words as the tears streamed down his face; he was unable to comprehend what had just happened.

He wanted to explain to England why he had to do it, but every reason he came up with didn't seem good enough. The blue eyed male didn't know how to make him understand, he had no idea what to do.

"You just though what?" The Englishmen asked, standing up and staring down at the boy with a mixture of sorrow and anger, "That you would kill yourself?" England felt frantic as he looked at the boy he loved more than anything, his voice cracking at the end.

"None of you like me anyways, you said so yourself. I can't be the hero that saves everyone, it doesn't matter how hard I try! You told me I was just a nuisance and annoying and I'm a waste of space!" America yelled standing up to stare at the man in front of him, "If I die then maybe all of you would finally be happy!" His rant ended in a whisper as he looked to the ground in defeat.

America's fists shook uncontrollably as he tried to calm himself, all of his emotions churning inside of him. The tears he thought he could no longer cry were now flooding his eyes, causing his vision to blur. England stared at him with his arms crossed, shaking his head in a disapproving fashion, saddened eyes staring at the boy before him- the happy boy he watched grow up to be strong and willful.

"I never said you were a nuisance or that you were a waste of space, lad. And who would be happy if you died?" England walked over to the American guiding him to sit on the couch, sitting beside him with a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Everyone would, even I would be happy if I died." He murmured through his tears, leaning onto the Englishmen's shoulder in despair.

"I would be devastated and so would your brother Matthew. It doesn't matter anyways, you can't die unless your country is destroyed and forgotten. If you committed suicide you would just come back to life, that's what it means to be a country's representative." England scolded the boy, while wrapping his arm around his shoulders in a comforting hug.

"I want to die." America whispered sadly finally losing everything as he cried out to the Englishmen who was slightly taken aback.

When America was young he would act like a hero, just as he does now. Though when he got scared, he would run to England for protection and cry in his arms. Sometimes he would get so scared he would sleep in England's bed, proclaiming that if he slept alone, the evil monsters would come out and get him, because England wasn't there to stop them.

These memories caused the Englishmen to smile slightly before remembering the severity of his once son's state- he tightened his grip on the boys shoulder, wanting more than anything for him to calm down and get it together.

The American couldn't take it anymore; he turned toward the Englishmen beside him and threw himself into his arms, bawling. All of America's sorrow came out onto the Englishmen's now soaked shirt as he hugged the boy and leaned back, lying on the couch. He laid there with America on top of him, rubbing his back with his right hand while the other wrapped around his waist to hold him close, making sure he didn't break anymore and staying in the loving embrace.

"Look at it this way America; the rest of us need you. Without you, we would all fall within seconds- so fast the world wouldn't even know what happened. You are the hero of the world, even if the rest of us won't admit it, we know it's true." England smiled at the boy on top of him, now petting his head lightly.

America lifted his head up to look at the Englishman's deep green eyes, "Really?" He sniffled.

"Yes America, you are the hero." England smiled at the blonde boy.

England sat up and pulled the boy he loved so much onto his lap. America pressed his face into England's shoulder as the last of his tears fell from his eyes. England leaned into the American's blonde hair, the sweet smell making him relax.

England pushed the boy gently out of his lap so he could stand. As he stood, he took America's hand and led him to the bathroom to clean the wounds on the boy's wrists.

"Let's get this cleaned up then we shall go to sleep, okay?" England turned on the water in the sink, letting his fingers stay under it.

The blonde Englishmen washed away the blood, the red looking like a dye in the water as it splashed against the sink. Taking some peroxide, he poured a good amount on the wounds so as to clean the cuts, causing the boy to jump a little at the sting he felt from the liquid. America watched it bubble up with no apparent emotions. After the cuts were cleaned and wrapped in bandages, England gave it a kiss as he was finished, just for good measure. America looked absolutely exhausted as he leaned against the Englishmen, his eyes fighting to stay open.

England smiled and picked the boy up in his arms to carry him upstairs. On any other day America would have protested and yelled that he was the hero, so he would carry England instead, but not tonight- the poor blue eyed boy was too tired to even notice. Instead, he just leaned into England's chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and let his eyes flutter closed. He felt every bounce of his friend's feet as England carried him up the stairs.

Even though he was a lot heavier then he remembered, England carried the American all the way to the bed, pulling the covers over his body after dropping him on the matters with a light thud. The man then turned to walk out of the room but America wouldn't let go of his hand where it had been throughout the entire time, as if losing the warmth of his hand would mean death for him, and England couldn't say he minded.

Looking at the clock to see it was already nine o clock, England decided it would be best if stayed here and made sure America was alright. He would need to change the bandages in the middle of the night as well, so it would be a waste of gas for him leave and come back. He crawled into bed with America, wrapping his arms around the waist of the boy beside him, keeping him close, and protecting him like he did so long ago.

"I love you America, more then you could ever know." England whispered into the American boy's ear.

America snuggled close to him, craving the body heat and comfort, "I know, 'cause I love you to."

The two boys snuggled close to each other, relishing in this moment as rain began to pitter-patter on the roof, like a natural lullaby that lasted throughout the night.

Even though they will act like it never happened around the others, this will be a moment that will stay with them forever. They both knew they loved each other, and they are at this very moment content with the situation. America will not kill himself; because he is the hero that will save everyone, even if he has to do it one person at a time, and England will help the boy as he has done since he was little.

This is the love they share for each other; the same love from when they were younger, the same love that a father has for his son, and the same love that friends have for each other.

**Thanks a lot for reading this, I hope you enjoyed it. I would; like to thank Artificial Star Light for beta-reading this. You're a big help, I appreciate it. Well people I hope you people have a good day and I would to explain that I was going for more of a father-son relationship with a mix of best friends between America and England and not Yaoi.**


	2. Alone

'_If I'm going to prove that I'm worth having around, it would be easier to start with Mattie. He'll be the first person who would admit he likes having me here, besides England. So I need to find my little bro and tell him just how much I care for him, well I'll try proving it instead of actually telling him. I'll make him think I'm the best big brother ever.'_ America was currently encouraging himself while he walked thru all of the halls of the meeting place, looking for Canada.

The obnoxious American even came to the meeting place early hoping to be able to talk to his brother privately. He's plan was to run up tell him he was his hero and that he would never let anyone hurt him then the Canadian boy would hug him as a thank you and it would be a successful mission.

Shall we see what the little Canadian is doing at the moment?

"You're right, I shouldn't worry so much." Said the meek whispery voice that sounds louder than usual in the empty hall way.

"Da, would you doubt my advice?" A smug childish voice replied with a smile to match.

"Non, I don't doubt you Russia! You are older than me so it would make sense that you understand more." Matthew was frantic that he might have offended his boyfriend in some way.

"Don't worry Mattvey." The larger man ruffled the younger boy's curly blonde hair in affection.

The Canadian's hand flew to his hair to make sure it was straight; well other than the one stubborn curl that he had long since gotten used to, "Why must everyone mess with my hair?" He mumbled to himself.

"Because it is cute and touchable, da." Russia smiled as he walked next to boy, genially happy to be near him.

"That sounds wrong," Matthew blushed, I'm glad we always get here so early, I like spending time with you." The quiet nation confessed.

"Da, me to. You are the only one I don't intimidate or scare away." Russia softly let his arm fall around the boy's shoulders to further his point.

Canada just smiled up at the man as he moved closer and leaned his head against his shoulder; his arm sliding inside the large coat to wrap around the man's waist, giving him the ability to feel his muscled form underneath the soft cotton shirt. Snuggling his head into the man's side, searching for the comfort he knew was always there.

They stopped walking as Russia leaned against the wall; his big coat making it softer than imagined. The almost white haired man slid down to sit on the floor, bringing the wavy blonde haired boy down with him; dragging him into his lap.

Matthew squeaked, "What are you doing?" he looked around widely to make sure no one was around to see the scene.

Russia simply chuckled, "What's the matter, Mattvey? No one is around." Russia buried his face in Matthew's soft French influenced hair.

"But what if someone sees us?" Canada blushed, turning to look at Russia who had lifted his head out of his hair with a sad expression that was rarely shown.

"What if they do? Do you really care if they do?" hanging his head, Russia's face was covered by the soft silk of his scarf, the only thing that kept him safe from the unwanted eyes that judge him.

Matthew brought his hand to rest gently on the man's soft check, "No I don't." rubbing his face with his thumb in a comforting fashion.

Russia's smile beamed as he leaned into the warm touch while the Canadian blush was soft crimson across his checks. Canada readjusted himself to sit side was in the Russians lap, his legs thrown over the man's so that he rest his hand on his chest and lean up to reach his soft lips.

Though this action was stopped centimeters from the others lips, by a small voice.

"Gross." Kumajiro had been sitting beside them.

Kumajiro is use to them doing this when they were together but they would always get overly excited when in each other's embrace and currently Kumajiro had no other room he could walk into so he had to stop them.

Matthew laughed at his furry friend while Russia chuckled, "Sorry Kumaka."

Matthew smiled and just leaned into Russia's muscled form, burying his face into his chest. Russia wrapped his arms around the quiet boy's small waist, while Kumajiro curled up in Matthew's lap, falling asleep to his owner's hand rhythmically smoothing the plush white fur. Russia's head lay on Matthew's and he couldn't help but relish this moment. He can honestly say he is completely and utterly content with his situation.

Too bad for Russia, he can never stay happy with anything; something always ruins it. What ruined his moment with the only person he truly loves was his lovers' brother. The obnoxious, loud boy ruined everything by running up and loudly screaming at his brother, angering the Russian as he tightened his grip around the Canadian protectively and glared at the American boy.

"Mattie what are you doing with that commi!" Alfred was flailing his arms around like an idiot that just saw a bus crash into a wall and didn't know what to do other than run in a circle and throw his arms around.

"A-Alfred, w-w-what are you doing here?" Matthew brought his hand to Ivan's to hold as he sat there, pushing himself into his body as if to grow smaller and recede from the danger in front of him. The Russian's anger grew, for he did not like it when his Mattvey was scared. Russia wrapped his arms fully around Matthew in a protective manner.

"Doesn't matter why I'm here, you're coming with me." America shot his hand out to grab Matthew's but stopped when Russia flipped their hands to where Matthew's was pressed into his chest, giving the American an icy stare.

"Нет, Mattvey is mine." Russia tightened his grip around the boy while Kumajiro got up and walked away from the tense atmosphere.

"He's _my_ brother, and I will protect him!" America glared down at the man.

Even while sitting on the ground the Russia still had a terrifying aura but Alfred refused to back down; as did Ivan. Russia sat there with a childish smile spread across his lips and intimidation radiating off of him.

"This may be true Amerika, but Mattvey is the best thing to ever happen to me and I refuse to lose him." Russia's smile was still placed on his face.

Matthew looked up at his boyfriend with glossy eyes, and a trembling lip, "Really?" Canada asked.

"Da, I wouldn't lie to you." Russia's face softened when the Canadian hugged him with tear filled eyes, for he knew those were tears of happiness.

America watched in shock as his baby brother planted a kiss on the commi bastard's check. At that moment England had walked over to him and proceeded to drag him away by the arm; of course after he stared in shock at his former provenience and Russia.

America sighed heavily in frustration, "How can my baby brother like that good for nothing commi!"

"America," England sighed as he stopped to turn and look at the boy, realizing just how much he has grown, "Matthew is no longer a baby, he is a nation; Canada, can make his own decisions. Don't be so ignorant." England let go of the boys arm.

"I'm not ignorant; I'm a hero and as a hero I have to keep everyone safe!" America pumped his fist in the air.

The image in his head was of him standing with one foot on top of a defeated Russia's chest in victory, his flag waving as the back ground. His Canadian brother running up to him with tear filled eyes; clinging to his side.

"Thanks you America, for saving me from the evil commi, I should have believed you in the first place."

With his arm wrapped around Canada he gave a flashy grin, "No problem little bro, that's what a hero is for"

During all of this he had unconsciously said everything out loud so that England could hear. The Englishman shook his head, exasperated, at the idiot in front of him.

"That wouldn't happen, you know what it was like when people attack Russia," England tried to reason but with the blank stare he got from the blonde, he became angry, "And Matthew doesn't sound like that!"

It was true, it sounded like whenever a guy pretends to have a girly voice, why would he do that with Canada… Don't answer that. America just laughed as England turned around and stormed away from the scene before him. Leaving the American to walk alone, his smile fell from his face as he watched his feet while walking forward to get to the meeting.

It's true, Canada isn't a baby; even if he is America's younger brother he can take care of himself. Alfred can't help it though; when it comes to his younger twin brother he became overly protective and rash. America wanted to be his little brother's hero and save him from all the monsters just like when they were kids. Is that so wrong, to want to hear his brothers say that he was his hero.

But what has America done to help Canada, nothing, that's what. America has left Canada to be eaten by the dogs on more than one account. America stopped in front of a large wooden door, outlined with a gold rim. The oak looking brand new or at least well taken care off.

With a sigh, America looked up at the door and plastered a smile on his face; placing his hands on the door knob. Pushing the door soundlessly open he ran into the large meeting room with a table in the middle and flowers in the center, yelling to announce his presence.

"Hey guys, the hero's back to save the world!" With his loud proclamation the other nations sighed while some smiled or ignored him and his announcement.

A few minutes after the American entered the room, so did a large scary Russian. What most people don't notice is that a small, quiet, Canadian boy was right behind him. These two men sat beside each other and while the Russia with the pretty white scarf just smiled creepily at everyone, the little Canadian watched his brother with remorse.

Thru out the whole meeting America acted as he always did, the key word there being acted. Matthew could tell his brother was worried and he knew he was the reason. Yea, Alfred could get over protective but it's just because he cares.

The meeting finally ended when England stormed out screaming that he wouldn't tolerate France's harassment; even though he does all the time. Canada wanted to be the last one to leave; hoping that he would get a chance to be alone with Ivan.

So that's what they did; waited for everyone to leave the room and then as the last to leave the walked slowly hand in hand, down the hall. What they didn't expect was that a certain blonde was watching from the back ground; he had been waiting for them. His glasses gleamed as he moved forward to grab his brother by the arm; a fake smile plastered to his face.

"Yo, Mattie! Let's hang out today," the American smiled then gave a pointed look at the man beside the male, "Just me and you."

Canada jerked his arm out of his brothers grip, "Al, I don't want to hang out today, I kinda have other plans." The Canadian didn't want to hurt his brother's feelings but Alfred has never cared before.

A dark look over came the blonde, "So you would rather hang out with a commi then your own brother!" The accusation hurt, but at the moment anger over threw that emotion in the little blonde male.

"What are you getting at, Al?" even with a whispery voice the Canadian was boiling with anger and intimidation.

"You care more about this stupid Commi than your own family!" Alfred was yelling and even though it was louder than Canada's yelling it was still a terrifying sight to see the Canadian mad.

"You've never cared about me before, so why start now!" Canada's fist were shaking at his side

"I do care, that's why I don't want him around you! I don't want you to become corrupt!" America's arms were flailing at this point, as if it would further his point if he looked like a complete idiot.

"No, you don't! You just can't stand the fact that someone finally notices me!" Matthew had tears running down as his face as he was overcome with emotions.

It's amazing how thru out this whole scene, Russia has just been standing beside his boyfriend without saying a single word; his childish smile ever present on his morbid face.

"What do mean, you're noticed all the time. People know who you are; at least you're not ignored all the time!" America just doesn't get how fast this is going downhill.

"At least people know your name. I'm so invisible to the world that people don't notice when I enter the room, Kumajiro doesn't even know my name. If I am noticed it's because everyone thinks I'm you! People know who you are, I'm nobody to them!" the violet eyed Canadian tried to calm his quiet sobs.

"I know who you are, and so does France, England, and even that stupid Prussian knows your name." America might not be screaming anymore but his reasoning sounded like he was scolding the young nation.

"You only notice me when it's convenient for you and I have to tell France and Britain who I am!" Matthew brought a hand up to wipe away the icy water on his checks, "Gilbert's never around so what does he even matter."

"Matthew, you need to stop being so selfish. We know who you are and we care!" America reached out to his brother but his hand was slapped away, shocking the nation.

"Is it really all that selfish to want people to notice me?" After throwing that in his brothers face; Matthew turned around and ran down the hall as fast as he could, his icy tears flying behind him.

America watched his brothers receding form as his footsteps echoed down the hall. Lost in the thoughts that he had hurt him, yet again. The only thing that brought him out of his thoughts was a childish voice filled with hidden anger.

"Way to go, Amerika." Russia picked up Kumajiro and handed him over the typical American while he, himself ran after his lover.

"Alone." Kumajiro always seems to know what to say to make his words cut the deepest.

America's face fell to the ground so he could watch each of his pitiful steps; while Kumajiro stayed in his arms looking over his back to the direction his owner and friend had run off in. Kumajiro's fluffy head bobbing as the American clumsily walked; who at the moment was wondering how Canada could always carry this heavy bear.

"Who?" The simply question that couldn't be answered at the moment.

This question that was piped in his ear, made America stand up straight as he held the bear in front of his face, with a questioning gaze. This question turned to realization; the American smiled at the bear and held him in a bear hug, how ironic.

"That's a great idea, let's go to Matthew's." America began to run down to the hall to get to his car.

The great plan was for America to show up at Canada's hotel room and be the hero that apologized to his brother.

With Russia and Canada

"Mattvey!" Russia called out to the still running blonde male, man he could run fast.

The younger of the two stopped running; Matthew just stood in the parking lot beside his car sobbing. His hands tried to rub them all away but the tears kept forming in his eyes. Russia walked up to the boy; slightly panting from the sudden exercise.

Standing g up straight Russia put his arms around the boys' slender waist; resting his forehead against the others.

Taking a deep breath the Russian spoke, "Are you ok, Mattvey?" the childish smile was now replaced with rare seriousness.

Matthew took a deep breath as well, "Yea, he's just so infuriating sometimes."

"Da, he can be, but he does care for you," Russia sighed in frustration, "No matter how much I want to deny it, he is a good brother in his own way."

"Yea, but where does he get off trying to say I'm selfish?" Matthew didn't understand how he was being selfish.

"He was wrong about that, but you both are invisible in your own ways." Dark violets looked to the cloudy sky, then back to the younger boy in his arms.

"What do you mean?" Matthew snaked his arms around the larger man's neck and leaned into his embrace.

"You are not seen by many people," Russia smiled at the sad eyes that stared at him, "But once you push yourself into their lives you cannot be forgotten; me and Prussia are proof of that, da."

"I guess you're right." Matthew smiled at the Russian while he pushed his face into the silky scarf and continued to listen to is explanation.

"You're brother on the other hand, is ignored by all because of his supposed stupidity. He his noticed but not acknowledged; your brother doesn't understand how much we rely on him even if we don't listen to him." Russia kissed Matthew on the top of the head, "Let's go back to the hotel, it is about to rain da."

Ivan was right, when Matthew looked around it had gotten a lot darker and gloomy looking, upon lifting his face toward the sky he found that dark clouds had formed and taken the sky hostage. Nodding at the man before he sat in the passenger seat while the Russian drove. Matthew was thankful that they had decided to buy one car to drive.

Half to the hotel, the music that was blasting got turned down as Matthew looked to Russia with a horrified expression. Russia just simply raised an eyebrow to his sudden change in attitude.

"Oh my maple, where's Kumaki!" Matthew frantically looked around the car as if the white polar bear would suddenly appear with his confused head tilted to the side.

Russia chuckled at the Canadian, wondering why it took so long for him to figure out he wasn't with them, "Don't worry, he well be reunited with you soon."

"Ivan, where is he?" Matthew's why was followed by his puppy eyes.

This caused the Russian to laugh out loud, "Those eyes won't work on me. I have been alive for a long time."

Matthew just huffed and crossed his arms while looking out the window; _it always worked on, Al._  
That's right Matthew still needed to apologize to his older brother. With a sigh the boy figured it would have to wait till tomorrow considering how late it was. If only he had kept calm and hadn't snapped at his brother.

Russia parked in front of the hotel America had them staying at and of course this hotel happened to have a McDonalds in front of it. Why was America so obsessed with hamburgers? Well, that would be like asking why Russia loved vodka, you won't get an answer other than its good.

Matthew got out of the car and walked to the room he and Russia shared. They walked hand in hand; ignoring the stares they got from the other people. Once at the door Matthew was laughing at something Russia had said while he was unlocking the door.

Russia pushed the door open and let the petit boy walk in first, a smile on his face in its usual spot. Flipping the lights on the two found a tired American asleep on their couch with a patient Kumajiro sitting on his stomach; watching the door.

Once the lights turned on and the fuzz ball was sure it was Matthew who had walked into the door; he jumped off of the American after adding a little pressure to get a good jump, and jumped into the Canadian's arms. After the initial shock the violet eyed male squealed; happy to have his best friend back.

The pressure from the bear, and lost warmth along with the squealing woke the American up. Groggily looking over to see his brother was back he bolted up and gave Canada a hug he wasn't expecting.

"I'm sorry Mattie; I shouldn't have been so mean to you."

Canada timidly wrapped his arms around the young nation in front of him, after a moment of though hugged back and then took a step back to look at the man in front of him.

"I'm sorry, Al I shouldn't gotten so upset with you." Canada smiled his voice just as whispery as ever.

"No, you don't have to apologize it was my entire fault," America smiled at his look-a-like, "and as the hero, I say I'm sorry."

Canada hugged the obnoxious male then pushed him to the door, "Well, thanks for apologizing, good night." With that the door was slammed in his face.

America sighed and walked to his car, he went home with a smile on his face; knowing that he did the right thing.

Inside the room Russia was laughing at the happy blonde and the fact that he had slammed a door in his brother's face. Said meek Canadian bounded over to the Russian and with his arms around his neck planted a kiss on his soft lips.

"Let's sleep." Matthew giggled as Kumajiro curled up on the couch ready to sleep away all the stress of the day.

"Da." Russia picked up the boy bridal style and carried him to the bed, "Tomorrow we will eat pancakes for breakfast."

"Yay," the squeal of delight made the Russian chuckle as he crawled under the blankets with his Canadian boyfriend, "je t'aime tellement!"

"я тебя люблю, чтобы Матвей."

Canada snuggled into the Russians side as he fell asleep in his warm embrace. Knowing he was forever safe in these arms, Canada could sleep peacefully.

Russia on the other hand knew for a fact that as long as someone believed in him and would want him around then he would be happy. As long as he had his happy Canadian then life would go on.

This is how the two helped each other in their mutualistic relationship. Love is a wonderful thing as long as it is returned. Who needs to be noticed by others when all the important people in your life see you, and who cares if you are feared by all as long as the few who love you will always stay by your side.

The End… For now

**Ok so the translations first off**

**Je t'aime tellement (French) I love you so much**

**я тебя люблю, чтобы Матвей (Russian) I love you to.**

**Da is obviously Russian for yes.**

**Ok so I don't know if I will make another chapter, it matters how this one turns out and if it's liked as much as the first one is. So please, let me know what you think. If this goes well and people want me to put the other chapters up that I was thinking of then there would be three more and they would be like this one and the last one. They would be about Russia, England, and then France.**

**Well, have a good day and I hope you enjoyed this. And I'm sorry it's not as good as the first one.**

**I would like to thank the person who gave me the idea to do this ****Igirisu1996****! Thanks a lot for the plot bunny, lol.**


	3. Emotions

You couldn't blame Matthew for what he did; it's not like he meant any harm by it. Seriously how was the quiet boy that no one talks to supposed to know that his brother had tried to kill himself? It wasn't until the next day he was even told about it and the sad part was that he was told by England; of all people. What has this world come to that England has to scold _Canada,_ the boy who never does anything wrong; about not knowing his own _brothers_ mental collapse.

At the moment Matthew was so sad and full of guilt that he didn't even notice when America walked into the room. He didn't see the boy push his glasses up and look at him with sorrow and regret; he most likely didn't want the other boy to know about what had happen. He didn't know that the American didn't want him to know about his break down; he didn't want anyone to know about it because hero's are supposed to do the saving not be saved themselves.

So of course the blonde Canadian didn't see his look alike brother change his expression from sad to overly happy as he bound over to the boy with pushed enthusiasm. Really though, is it possible for someone to be that happy.

"Yo, Mattie what's up?" America put his arm on the top of the chair Matthew was sitting in and leaned in front of him.

The wide grin on the American's face bothered the Canadian, no one who had gone thru what he had should be that happy, should they? "Hey Al, I'm sorry about slamming the door in your face, it's just that I wanted some alone time with Russia and-." Canada cut himself off when he saw America's eye twitch and the slight sadness hidden behind them.

"It's cool bro, wanna hang out with me today!" Alfred was as happy as ever as if nothing had gone wrong; even though there were still tell-tale signs of the stress from his eye twitching to the messed up hair that was a tad bit messier then usual.

The Canadian smiled at the boy in front of him; happy to see that the boy had enough strength to be so happy. Canada stood up and walked out of the room as America slung an arm around the boy and walked out sputtering about how he wants to be the hero that stops global warming.

England watched on with a slight smile on his face; glad to see the boys were finally spending some time together. He knew he was smart to tell Canada about the issue at hand. Hopefully he could help things move along to help America recover from the little incident that isn't so little; actually it's a pretty big deal and the poor Englishman has been stressing over it since that night.

While sitting there staring at the spot that his beloved use to be provinces long ago stood; instead of seeing the grown nations they are today he saw them as the little kids they use to be that would play with each other all the time. The days when even they could see his magical friends and they would play with Charlie; the pale white unicorn they had quickly befriended.

"Ohohonhon is zat a smile I zee on your face!" the annoying accent brought the Briton out of his sweet memories, thus ending his content state of mind.

Green eyes narrowed at the smile before him, "Leave me alone, frog."

"Your smile was so beautiful, mon ami!" Francis laughed as he sashayed up to the annoyed man.

"Shut up you bloody git." The Englishman didn't have the nerves to put up with the sex driven man.

The smile changed from one of… well you know; to a concerned expression, "What iz ze matter?"

"What makes you think there's anything the bloody wrong, frog!" England was now on his way to door as he stormed away with his fists at his side.

Once outside the door he calmed down a little and walked with a solemn expression and his shoulders slumped slightly, things have been getting difficult for him. Everything seems fine but his government is becoming a handful and then his people are getting restless. He also had to deal with America's little mental issue; the poor lad. He really does still see himself as the boy's father and no matter how long ago it was it still hurts to think about that rainy, sorrowful day he fought for his independence.

The green eyed man's eye twitched when the soap-dogging-white-flagger came up to him with a hand on his arm, in mock concern; or so the man thought.

"Cher, how about we go out and have some fun, oui?" The Frenchmen gave a soft laugh in his creepy rapist way.

"I could go for a drink." The Englishmen thought out loud then he turned on France with an accusing glare and pointing finger; jumping away slightly, "You're just trying to get me drunk so I will tell you what's going on, you can't trick me frog!"

"What, moi? I would never do such a thing, mon ami." The Frenchmen showed mock hurt with a hand over his heart; of course he had to over dramatize everything.

Arthur took a minute to think then shrugged with a sigh as he had made his decision, "Fine, but don't think I'm doing this just because you asked me to!"

So a couple of minutes later they were sitting at the bar with the Englishmen hanging on the dark oak wood of the bar counter while he held a beer in one hand. Francis sat crossed legged swirling his glass of wine with a creepy smile of satisfaction while the man in front of him poured out his soul in his drunken state.

"Angleterre, why didn't you tell me such a zing had happened. I could 'ave 'elped." France was genuinely hurt by the fact he wasn't involved in this little affair. Especially since it pretty much involved the whole family except for him.

"Why would I tell you! It's not like you could have helped anyway." England slurred while he mumbled the last part to himself but Francis clearly heard every word.

"Mon cher, Je suis tellement désolé."(my dear, I'm so terribly sorry) France had a look of sadness in his blue orbs, "Come with me." His mind was made up and he knew what he was going to do to make this better.

France grabbed England and pretty much carried the brit out of the bar; of course it wasn't without protest. Once outside the pub France forced Arthur into the passenger seat of his red overly flashy convertible mustang. He then proceeded to drive to his own house, half way there though the Englishmen in his passenger seat had passed out; either from the alcohol or stress, he wasn't sure.

Finally France drove up his long drive way and parked with a sigh. It made him happy that he had decided to buy a house in all of the countries near their meetings; since there always held in the same place within the countries. With a huff the Frenchmen grabbed the small but muscled arms of the Englishmen and proceeded to drag the blonde green eyed male into his house; failing at not getting dirt on the poor unconscious man's clothes. The hardest part of all of it was unlocking the door; it amazed him that he hadn't hurt the man he was pulling by the arms; seeing as he almost fell off the porch.

As soon as he entered the house he laid England on the love seat and placed a red fuzzy blanket over his shivering body while running to the closet to get some white soft feathered pillows to support the Englishman's head. The cushions of his red velvet love seat weren't thick but not enough to hurt the Englishman's back but to give support and soft enough to make you never want to leave the comfort of its embrace. The black leather that incased the rounding of the chair brought out the blonde hair on Arthur as he snored quietly, the Frenchman watched the other man's chest rise and fall with every sleepy breath just for a few blissful minutes before getting an idea and leaving to accomplish it.

When Arthur woke up a few hours later he first noticed the water and pain killer lying on the table beside him. Next thing was that he wasn't in his hotel and that there where candles lit everywhere, along with a delightful smell coming from the kitchen. His first thoughts were of how content he felt as if he let all of his worries go; he hadn't even though of why he wasn't in his hotel room and it never occurred to him that he was in any danger.

After sitting up; allowing the blanket to fall around his body and feeling the headache that came with drinking too much alcohol he took the pills that where on the side table, and drowsily wrapped the soft blanket around his shoulders and stumbled into the kitchen, leaving the heavenly and amazingly comfortable couch.

As soon as he was inside the kitchen he saw France at the stove cooking bacon, eggs, and pancakes. France turned around and smiled at the overly stressed man he saw, who even though had a hangover looked better than he had yesterday, and waved to him with his spatula in hand, "Mon ami, good morning! Breakfast iz finished." He sat two plates down on the wooden round table with a wonderful looking light pink cloth over it and rose petals along with a candle lit in the middle. England also noticed that the lights where dimed and he was grateful for the bright light would have hurt his head a bloody a lot worse than it already did now.

"Food sounds splendid, uh thank you France." He told the man in his slightly confused state while sitting across from the Frenchman.

"Did you sleep well, mon Angleterre?" The Frenchman asked while eyeing the Englishman after a few minutes of silently eating.

England blinked a few times before answering "Yes I did actually. It's amazing how comfortable that couch is, I mean really it was like sleeping on a cloud of some sort." He said while looking back at his food and eating some more "What about you, you bloody git?" he asked just out of good manners; he was a British gentleman after all.

"Quite well ohnohnhon," France smiled at him "Seemed quite stressed yesterday non?" He asked again watching England's face expression, which changed from pleasant to serious in the blink of an eye.

"I don't know what you are talking about." He told the blonde Frenchman while obviously avoiding the subject; at least he was still able to be stubborn that in its self is a sign that things aren't too bad for the brit.

"Non? Last night you went zrough all the drinks like there was non tomorrow" France tilted his wine glass towards the Brit causing the red liquid to almost spill…almost.

"Things are just frustrating right now you stupid frog." Arthur sighed giving in to the Frenchman's need for gossip

"Oh? 'ow so?" His voice was gentle but there was a glint in his eyes almost like he was afraid he had caused it himself.

"America had a break down about everyone hating him. Mathew seems more isolated then I last remembered, and I can't get control on any of this." He said with an angry huff.

"Oh mon ami. You cannot control everyzing. You are no longer a feared pirate after all." France seemed to be nice about it, though The Brit was still slightly insulted.

"I guess you're right. Still it'd be nice to help them again, to be their father again." England looked off into a world of memories that had to do with being a father to one of the most powerful countries and second largest country in the world booth of which were wonderful young lads.

"zey do grow fast non?" The Frenchman laughed a laugh that wasn't much of a laugh as he remembered Mathew when he was so much smaller, a sad smile adorning his face.

The United Kingdom forgotten the France had also raised Canada, and probably gave more to his culture then England did himself, "You raised him well." England told France, referring to Canada of course.

"Non, 'e raised 'imself. And in doing so 'e 'as taught me many zings." Francis's voice held little emotion and that bit of emotion was sadness and regret. It seemed he put a lot of thought into this one statement.

England began to think as well "No matter how much we take credit for teaching them, they also taught us didn't they? Showed us things about ourselves we didn't even know about." England paused and then add "It's lonely without them" as a second thought.

France got up and wrapped his arms around the brit "It iz, but at least we ztill 'ave zem, and each other." He kissed the top of the Brit's head and walked out, satisfied with what he had done and said.

"Maybe," came England's soft voice as he looked down into his tea that was in his lap. "Thank you France." England stared up at the ceiling and lost himself in thought and in his own memories, leaving a small smile to linger on his lips.

It's amazing how America's one little mental collapse could cause so many relationships to come together and get new ground. It allowed Canada to see that he spent to much time with Russia but it also let Russia know just how important it was to keep family close, thus making their relationship with each other's family's improve. It also brought France and England closer together and let them realize just how much their family means to them and how much their young sons have grown over the years.

So all in all this story that seemed to be made of a lot of drabbles revolving around one incident did have a meaning to them. It meant to tell you that even though someone is happy they can crash into a darkness that lives in their minds but it can also bring people together by helping that person out.

But what did this experience do for America? Well it helped him become closer to his brother and brought his family together. Now they can all live knowing that they will always be there for one another. This taught America that he isn't alone no matter what the rest of the world thinks, and that he is still the hero.

_Well that's this story people. I hope you enjoyed and I do apologize for the long wait I didn't mean for it to take this long I just kind forgot about all of this and I was so busy and I'm just coming up with excuses its really because I'm lazy and didn't care enough to actually finish it. So after writing the first 27 paragraphs and the last 2, my sister did the rest because I was brain dead. So thank you DarkAkatsukiNeko24. Well bye people. Oh yea and this is it last chapter, bye go read my all stories please!_


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note

The administrators of are as of June 4th going to be taking down Fics that have lemons or have extreme violence. Now I don't know about you but I think that's stupid. There are many wonderful fics that only have one or two lemons in them yet the plot itself is awesome! You can't just take down a 100,000+ word fic just because it has a lemon in a chapter that is only 1000 words long. Now I urge you all to read the petition below, sign it, and repost this to your own fics. Hopefully if we make enough noise everything will return to normal. Thank you.

Greetings to the fine folk that moderate our site.

Myself, along with many, have been writing and posting on your fine site for years now, some of the better examples of up and coming writers out there are now suddenly finding some of the stories we've come to love at risk of being removed without the chance to even rectify our errors.

For some, that means the permanent loss of a story. While I don't have anything that I believe violates your terms of use, there are those out there that are never able to recover a story in its original form, this is something I find to be almost worthy of a legal action, as while we cannot claim ownership of a character, the stories are OURS and simply destroying them is something that is inexcusable.

It's quite easy to simply add an MA rating, additional filters or even a simple requirement for a free membership to read the stories presented here, and would cut down on hateful anonymous reviews and posts at the same time, so I have to question as to why such a thing, in all this time, simply wasn't added.

If you're worried about falsification of a registration then have an appropriate disclaimer and then there can be no dispute, you took your steps and the PARENTS didn't monitor their children, if that is even your concern. If it is more of a personal view or desire then please at least let people know and give them a chance to remove a story that you and yours find offensive, most people on the site are actually rather cordial when it comes to such requests.

While I cannot say for sure if this letter will even reach those that may be willing to listen, of if it's more akin to a wide spectrum purge in preparation for something bigger, please understand that you are going to be losing a LARGE number of your writers, and thus your income from a lack of readers if there is not some level of action taken to help with this situation.

For those that may agree with this, please feel free to sign on and send this to the support server, maybe we can get some movement on this.

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